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Updated: June 13, 2025
Their ignorance of English together with their national clannishness caused them to stick together in communities. They soon became known as Keskydees. Very few people knew why. It was merely the frontiersmen's understanding of the invariable French phrase "Qu'est-ce qu'il dit?"
They are already deep in the discussion of the Abbé Siéyès's brochure, 'Qu'est-ce que le Tiers État, and Madame de Flahaut declares that his writings and opinions will form a new epoch in politics as those of Newton in physics! Can fatuity go farther? And yet she is the cleverest woman I have met in France.
Proudhon says: "That is all right; obviously half of his wages are sufficient for that man. What has he to complain of if he is rewarded according to the work which he has performed? and what does it matter to others? In this sense it is right and proper to apply the text, 'to each according to his work'; that is the law of equality." Qu'est-ce que la Propriété? p. 102.
In the midst of this mêlée one woman, whose eyes and facial contour betrayed Chinese blood, but who was very comely and neat, pushed forward and pointing to the glittering center of attraction repeated over and over. "Kisskisskissa? Kisskisskissa?" For awhile I was disposed to credit her with a sudden affection for me, but soon resolved her query into the French "Qu'est-ce que c'est que ca?
Once again these houris asked each other, "Mais qu'est-ce qu'il a! Ce bel Hector? Oú se cache-t-il?" Before she went to bed in her hotel in the Rue de Rivoli, Monica Ellerwood wrote to her aunt. "PARIS, May 15th. "MY DEAR AUNT MILLY, We have had a delicious little week, Jack and I, quite like an old honeymoon pair and to-day we ran across Hector, who has remained hidden until now.
"In half an hour." True enough, everything stood ready-packed trunks, portmanteaux, and all. Coffee had long been served. "Eh bien, tu verras Paris. Dis donc, qu'est-ce que c'est qu'un 'utchitel'? Tu etais bien bete quand tu etais 'utchitel. Where are my stockings? Please help me to dress."
Mais ici ..." "Tu grognes? On va r'devenir homme, c'est tres bien!" "C'est idiot! Qu'est-ce qu'elles vont faire ici!" "On dirait c'est du militarisme francais!" "Le militarisme francais j'm'en f ! Tu verra, cela va faire encore du travail pour nous."
"Come along, it's all right!" shouted a good-humored-looking bearded peasant with a red face, showing his white teeth in a grin, and holding up a greenish bottle that flashed in the sunlight. "Qu'est-ce qu'ils disent?" asked Veslovsky. "They invite you to have some vodka. Most likely they've been dividing the meadow into lots.
I envied no girl her lover, no bride her bridegroom, no wife her husband; I was content with this my voluntary, self-offering friend. If he would but prove reliable, and he looked reliable, what, beyond his friendship, could I ever covet? But, if all melted like a dream, as once before had happened ? "Qu'est-ce donc?
A line of a song came down, a song sung in a strange quavering voice. It was the catch I had heard the night before: "Qu'est-ce qui passe ici si tard, Compagnons de la Marjolaine e!" It was true. The company came late indeed too late by forty years. . . . To adopt the opening words of a more famous tale, "The truth of this strange matter is what the world has long been looking for."
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